


Demon Distress Signal

by lightsaroundyourvanity



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-17
Updated: 2013-03-17
Packaged: 2017-12-05 13:11:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/723671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightsaroundyourvanity/pseuds/lightsaroundyourvanity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Sam and Dean find Meg beaten up, they take her back to their motel, and Castiel takes care of her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Demon Distress Signal

They had found Meg in the bathroom: Beaten, broken, and as sharp-tongued as ever. Of course Dean’s first impulse was to whip out Ruby’s knife and gank the bitch before she found a way to fuck them over, but Sam had stopped him, gripping Dean tight enough around the wrist to grind the small bones there together.

 

“Since when do we kill the things we find kidnapped and bleeding on the floor?” Sam asked.

 

“Seriously, Sam? We’re defending demons again?”

 

Sam shifted uncomfortably. “Meg has been good to us.”

 

“Meg has only ever been good to herself.” Dean scowled.

 

“When Cas was out of it...”

 

It was the wrong thing to say. Dean’s scowl darkened, and he ripped his wrist from his brother’s hold. “I am getting real fucking tired of accommodating that bitch because our _guardian angel_ has a crush.”

 

“Dean...”

 

“As much as it turns me on to see you fighting for my honour, I’d really rather you just help me up,” Meg piped up. Throughout Sam and Dean’s conversation she had watched them, dazed but lucid enough to follow. 

 

Dean’s eyes snapped to Meg immediately. “When we want your input, we’ll ask for it,” he growled, pointing with the knife for emphasis.

 

Meg closed her eyes and leaned her head against the wall. “Whatever you say, Captain America.”

 

“What the hell are we supposed to do with her then?” Dean asked, looking very unhappy.

 

“I don’t know.” Sam didn’t look angry, but he was obviously no more thrilled by this situation than Dean. “Take her back to the motel?”

 

“Usually I like to be bought dinner first,” Meg murmured, her eyes still closed.

 

Sam and Dean exchanged one final, troubled glance before they lifted Meg together and carried her outside.

 

+_+_+_+

 

Meg passed out at some point during the ride home, and she was still unconscious when they got to the motel and Sam dumped her unceremoniously on the threadbare queen sized bed. 

 

“Now what are we supposed to do?” Dean asked irritably. He was tired, starving, and in no mood to nurse the demon who had killed half his social circle back to health.

 

Sam ran a hand through his hair. “Dunno. Should we call Cas?”

 

“I’m sure her demon distress signal will reach him sooner or later,” Dean muttered. 

 

“Well, maybe he could watch her,” Sam suggested. “We can’t leave her alone here, and I’m starving.”

 

At the mention of food, Dean heard his stomach rumble loudly. He made a face. “Yeah, okay.” Dean sighed, and then squeezed his eyes shut. “Cas? Castiel? We uh... we have something you might want to see.”

 

Castiel’s response was immediate. Sam and Dean heard the sweeping sound of wingbeats and then he was there. “What is it, Dean?”

 

Instead of answering, Dean let his eyes drift towards the bed. Castiel followed his gaze, and when he saw Meg, his back stiffened. “What happened to her?”

 

“We don’t know,” Sam admitted. “We just sort of... found her this way.”

 

“ _Found_ her?” Castiel’s voice was tight. “Sam, if there is anything that you are not telling me...” 

 

“Of course not,” Dean snapped. “Believe it or not, there’s a whole laundry list of people who might want to beat Meg senseless and lock her in a bathroom.”

 

“Only the keepers,” Meg mumbled. She was starting to wake up.

 

In two long strides Castiel was beside her, perched on the edge of the bed, taking Meg’s bloody hand in his own. “Meg, are you all right?” he asked with genuine concern.

 

Meg managed a weak smile. “Sure, Clarence. All my parts are where you left ‘em.”

 

“Are you--”

 

“Well, we were going to grab something to eat,” Dean interrupted, a little too loudly. “Cas, do you think...”

 

“I’ll watch over her,” said Castiel. His eyes never left Meg.

 

Dean sighed noisily, but after a few moments he and Sam left, the motel door closing with an audible click.

 

“Is there anything I can get for you?” Castiel asked Meg. His fingers twitched with the urge to smooth back her hair. She would hate that.

 

For all her cuts and bruises, Meg looks casually amused. “You gonna play doctor with me, Castiel?” she asks. “Ask me where it hurts and fix my aches?”

 

Castiel frowned. “I wish that I could, but I am afraid my abilities would have no effect on a demon. I could get you a cold compress...”

 

“A cold compress.”

 

“On television, they appear to be very soothing for the sick and injured.”

 

Meg pushed herself onto her elbows. “You are unbelievable, you know that?”

 

“Thank you,” Castiel said hesitantly.

 

“No, really. Unbelievable.” Meg struggled into a sitting position, and found she was at eye level with Castiel now, their faces close. “I think I know what I might need.” 

 

Castiel could feel Meg’s breath on his cheek and it cut through his worry and made him shiver. “What do you need?” he asked. His eyes skated to Meg’s lips and lingered there, and before she could even respond Castiel divined it himself, crushed his mouth to Meg’s and sank his hands in her tangled hair.

 

Meg kissed him back like she was trying to win, bit at his lower lip and slid her tongue into his mouth. Castiel sighed, and he could feel Meg smile against his lips at the sound. She deepened the kiss and crawled into Castiel’s lap, and Castiel’s hands drifted from Meg’s hair to her waist. His grip tightened, and he jerked Meg closer, startling a small noise out of her.

 

Instantly, Castiel broke away from Meg. “Did I hurt you?” he asked, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have... I mean, you’re hurt...”

 

Meg bit back a groan of frustration. The real problem with getting touched by an angel was that you never knew when they were going to get overwhelmed by tender _feelings_ and spoil the whole mood. “I’m fine,” she said roughly. “Kiss me again.”

 

“I- I couldn’t,” said Castiel. “I would be taking advantage...”

 

Meg didn’t feel like wasting time arguing, so she pressed her lips to Castiel’s instead. 

 

“Meg...” Castiel murmured hesitantly.

 

“Shut up. Just... shut up.” Meg laced her fingers behind Castiel’s neck and kissed him again. “You asked me what I needed. This is what I need.”

 

Meg thought that Castiel might continue to argue. She was wrong. He threw himself into the kiss with new passion, lifted Meg until she was straddling his hips, bit down gently on her earlobe and kissed the sensitive spot behind it. Meg pressed closer, made encouraging noises in the back of her throat. She ground against Castiel and felt his stiffening response, and Castiel kissed her mouth again, his tongue demanding and exploratory. He slipped his hands beneath the hem of her shirt and touched warm skin, mottled with bruises, sticky with blood. Castiel hissed in sympathy.

 

“Don’t worry. Don’t stop.” Meg’s breath was coming shorter now as she rubbed herself furiously against Castiel. “Oh god...”

 

“Don’t say that.”

 

Meg grabbed Castiel’s tie in her fist and yanked him towards her until their foreheads were touching. “Make me.”

 

Castiel growled in response, and pushed Meg’s shirt up and over her head. He buried her face in her exposed breasts and breathed in deeply, bit down on the left hard enough to leave the imprint of teeth and make Meg moan. 

 

And that’s how they were --Meg’s legs wrapped around Castiel’s waist, and Castiel with a faceful of boob, his hands scrabbling at the clasp of Meg’s bra-- when the door clicked open and they heard Sam’s voice:

 

“Look, it’s not that I don’t _like_ Foreigner, I just don’t like Foreigner _all the time_ ,” he was saying to Dean.

 

Castiel froze. He lifted his head and craned his neck until he saw Sam and Dean stopped in their tracks, holding bags of takeout.

 

Unerringly, his eyes met Dean’s, gauging his friend’s response. He saw fleeting anger, and mingled shock and disappointment, and then Dean sighed loudly. “We can’t take you two anywhere, can we?”

 

Castiel looked back at Meg, who looked supremely annoyed that things had gotten cut short just when they were starting to get good. Unexpectedly, it tugged at Castiel’s heart. He raised one hand and brushed a stray lock of hair behind Meg’s ear, quickly, before she could swat him away.

 

“No,” he agreed. “You can’t.”  

**Author's Note:**

> from an anonymous tumblr prompt!


End file.
